Flashpoint by Felicity Young Read Free Book Online Page B

would have been irritating and made Leanne suspect he usually tied it back. Shit, she’d forgotten to mention this to the guys at the Shearer’s Rest. Maybe if she pointed it out to the patrons at the Glenny Arms she’d be able to jog a few more memories.
    She’d not been looking forward to her visit to the Glenny. It was the pub her dad used to drink at and was full of his old cronies. None of them took her seriously. She would always be little Leanne Henry to them no matter how large she became, whatever uniform she wore. And the fact that she had replaced the supermarket uniform with a police uniform seemed to make no difference; they’d give her a hard time, regardless.
    As she slid out of the police Commodore she expected the worst and wondered about the wisdom of, if not the reasons for, her special request to be posted back to her hometown.
    Catcalls and whistles greeted her as she pushed against the heavy hinged door to make her way through the lunchtime crowd to the counter. Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement at the jukebox, heard the tinkle of coins.
    There was a snigger, then a snort then the buzz of the crowd was drowned by Skyhooks’ ‘Women In Uniform’, so loud she could hardly hear herself think,let alone shout above it.
    She walked over to the offending machine with her gut squirming. There was a curved rib of vinyl forty-fives, song lists and numbered buttons, but nothing that said Stop. A man in Stubbies and a blue singlet delved into the small pocket next to his straining belly, about to slot another coin and select another track.
    Leanne reached for his wrist and stopped the action, shouting to be heard. ‘Hold on a sec, sir. Please don’t play any more music. I need to make a public announcement.’
    He feigned a look of surprise and gave her a reluctant nod.
    She continued towards the bar until a rough hand grabbed hers. She looked down to find Ham Martin kneeling at her side. He was lip-synching the song’s chorus and gazing up at her with an expression of mocking love.
    Women in uniform, sometimes they look so cold. Women in uniform, but ooh they feel so warm.
    She tried to yank her arm away without making a scene but he reached out with his other hand and caught her tight. What should she do now? She might have won the marksmanship trophy at the Academy, but she could hardly shoot him for this; it wasn’t even just cause for pepper spray. At the Academy they had been drilled on how to handle almost every situation, but shit if she could remember the correct procedure for this kind of harassment. Her nervousness had made her mind go blank. Even if she’d remembered the by-the-book response, he’d never be able to hear her above the racket of the jukebox.
    She couldn’t think. All she could feel was the flush of her own humiliation scratching against the collar of heruniform shirt.
    The song finally finished and the laughter subsided to an acceptable hum.
    â€˜Left your brain in the cup by your bed again, Ham?’ Leanne said.
    Ham’s grin faded, and he let go of her hand. Several of the patrons chuckled. She tried to ignore the crude remarks as she moved over to the bar, conscious of fifty pairs of eyes boring into her back. She leaned against the bar and slid the picture of Bell across to Kylie the barmaid. But as Kylie opened her mouth to speak she was interrupted by a voice from behind. It was Terry Carmichael, one of her dad’s best mates.
    â€˜Have you heard from Bob recently, Leanne?’
    Jesus Christ, just let me get my job done.
    â€˜This isn’t a social visit, Terry.’ She looked into his weathered face, seeing only concern in his sun-faded eyes. At least he wasn’t making fun of her.
    â€˜He’s in Broome now,’ she amended, feeling the stiffness of her breast pocket where the dog-eared postcard lay next to her heart.
    â€˜Lucky bugger,’ he sighed then added in a softer